


Coffee

by dirrrtydeeds



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirrrtydeeds/pseuds/dirrrtydeeds
Summary: You weren't really a coffee person.





	Coffee

You weren’t typically a coffee person. At least, not like a lot of people you knew. You liked the stuff well enough, but you didn’t drink it every damn day. It was mostly just a treat here and there if you had a day off and was running errands or something. And honestly, you mostly just went to Starbucks if the craving hit you and you had the extra cash, or made your own at home on your cheapass coffee maker. 

You _certainly_ weren’t the type to go into those hipster cafes, even on a whim. Not that you had anything against them in particular - there was nothing wrong with being hipster - but it just wasn’t your style. So you didn’t know what the hell possessed you to walk into one on a drizzly Tuesday morning, but, well, there you were. 

Jesus _lord,_ what the hell was this menu? You were distressed and depressed as you looked up the million and one variations upon a drink you would only take with the cheapest creamer available at the grocery store. Sometimes even just milk if you were really pressed for money. What the fuck even _was_ half of this shit? 

“Hey, what can I get started for you?” 

The barista behind the counter was cheerful, but a little wary of your defeated expression. You flashed them a quick, small smile, unwilling to be one of _those_ assholes who was weird to the workers of a place just because you were confused, and stepped up to the counter to give your order. Honestly, you didn’t even know what the fuck you ordered - you had just panicked and picked the third thing listed on the menu, and then agreed when they asked if you wanted it for here because you also panicked and wanted it to go but forgot to say it first. 

After giving them your name for the order, you sat down awkwardly at one of the little armchairs, your eyes flickering around at all two customers in the store. One of them was a man who looked way too old to be even breathing without assistance reading a newspaper, and the other was a fucking _gigantic_ bald guy in jogging gear (seriously, dude? It’s _wet_ outside, and you’re jogging? Or maybe he was just wearing it for the aesthetic?) taking a million pictures of the cafe itself on a phone that was probably worth your entire paycheck. 

You eyed him for a few moments longer before you decided it’d be for the best if you looked away now before he caught you, and busied yourself reading one of the magazines on the table, weirdly giddy when you realized it was one of those home improvement ones, even though you probably wouldn’t ever be able to afford anything other than your tiny studio apartment. It was just fun looking at it, damn it. You could dream if you wanted to. 

But unfortunately, you got a little too caught up with it, because eventually you realized a while had passed and you hadn’t heard your name being called. Your eyes flickered to the counter where a coffee sat waiting, and after a brief glance at the other two people in the cafe and realizing that they had their drinks already, you assumed it was yours and stood to grab it. 

You took it back over to your little spot and set it down to cool while you continued reading your magazine (really, Debra? Periwinkle paint for your cabinets? What a mess.), not noticing that you had eyes on you and your untouched coffee, and _definitely_ not noticing that the super buff bald guy in jogging gear was heading your way. 

“Ah, excuse me, miss.” 

Your head snapped up and your cheeks were already tinged pink with embarrassment at having to talk to a stranger as you smiled nervously up at him. You, much like every other human being ever, had a bit of a _thing_ for accents, and this guy sounded super, er… gosh. You couldn’t place it. European? Some type of European. Was it bad that you couldn’t place it? 

“I think I picked up your coffee by mistake.” He smiled at you, offering you his cup and nodding to the one you had in front of you. And honestly, since you didn’t have a damn clue what you ordered to begin with, you were sure you believed him. 

“Thanks.” You said, as if you were really grateful he caught the mistake before you had, even though you definitely wouldn’t have caught the mistake at all. 

“No problem.” He beamed, and oh gosh, he had a really nice smile. “I’m Antonio Cesaro, it’s nice to meet you.” 

You gave him your name right back and shook his hand, internally swooning at how _big_ his hand was in your own. What you really, really wanted more than anything was to maybe sit next to this guy, to talk to him some more, figure out where he was from and why he was here so far from home, but it felt like your mouth was full of cotton. Damn it, why couldn’t you speak to pretty people? You were a grown ass adult, for fuck’s sake. You should be able to invite someone to sit next to you. What a loser you w-

“D’you mind if I take a seat right here?” Antonio gestured towards the empty seat next to you, and this time the relief in your voice was real as you agreed. 

You ended up talking to him for three whole hours. You found out all sorts of things about him, and he learned quite a bit about you after gentle prying at your walls that you had built to hide the fact that you were just incredibly socially inept. It was genuinely _fun_ talking to the Swiss wrestler, which was something you hadn’t been able to say for anyone in a long while. 

In fact, you were genuinely bummed out when an alarm rang on his phone signalling that he had to head to the arena where his show would be tonight to get ready. 

“Aw, don’t give me that pouty face.” Cesaro teased you, boldly poking your cheek as he stood and gathered all of his things. 

“Wh- I do _not_ have a pouty face!” You protested, standing as well and shouldering your bookbag. 

“It’s an epic pouty face.” He informed you with a laugh before taking his phone out and tapping on it for a few moments before handing it to you. “Here. Put your phone number in, and take a photo of yourself, too.” 

Your nose scrunched up at the second part, though your heart was racing a bit at the first. He really liked you that much? He wanted your _phone number?_ Geez. You were so glad you went into this hipster coffee shop. “A photo? I don’t think-”

“It’s so the security team knows who you are when you come to the show tonight.” Cesaro cut you off, looking smug and victorious. 

You lifted an eyebrow, struck by how bold he was being by _telling_ you that you would be going to the show rather than asking if you would like to. Just as you had opened your mouth to protest, he shook his head no.

“Mm, yes you are. Ringside, too. I want your first experience with wrestling to be a good one.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Besides, I want to be able to find you easy so I can show off during my match better.” 

You laughed, cheeks tinged pink as you took the damn picture, then tapped in your phone number, before giving him back his phone. “Alright, fine, you cocky bastard. What time do I need to be there? Oh, and what should I even _wear?_ Should I bring you flowers?” 

The grin on Cesaro’s face could have lit up your whole apartment. “I’ll text you, what you have on is fine, and absolutely bring me flowers, that would be awesome. But I really do have to be going, so, I’ll see you in a bit, yes?” 

_“Yes,_ you Swiss smart ass, you’ll be seeing me in a bit. Now go, put on your baby oil and spandex, or whatever it is you wrestlers do.” You teased, shooing him away from you. Cesaro was laughing right along with you as he started to walk out, waving his goodbyes. 

When he was finally out of your sights, you couldn’t help but nibble on your lower lip and duck your head to try to hide your shy smile. And to think, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t decided to step out of your comfort zone a little and then panic at the cash register and order something you still didn’t know the name of. 

One thing was for sure now: you were definitely a way bigger fan of coffee now more than you ever had been. And you had one beefy, sassy, bald-headed Swiss wrestler to thank.

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo!! My first Cesaro fic! I hoped you guys liked it! Don't forget to follow me on tumblr (same username), and if you're also a writer, I'm co-hosting a spooky themed writing challenge on tumblr as well! You'll find me better on tumblr, but if you don't have an account, go ahead and send me a PM on here and I'll give you some more info/help you sign up! <3 you guys!!


End file.
